


when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home (baby, baby, merry christmas)

by wolfchester



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE, No angst here, Sharing a Bed, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fake-dating au, for once, hell yeah, i wrote this in literally a day, like basically just christmas eve and christmas fckin DAY bc i wanted to finish this so bad, tsss2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: (for my friend piper (in-my-head-i-do-everything-right / still_i_fall) as part of the 'the society secret santa 2019' gift exchange)harry is brutally dumped right before the holidays. the worst part of it all is that his mom had already paid for kelly to join them on a week-long trip to visit family in minneapolis. harry’s mom tells him to find someone to replace kelly on the trip—jason, clark, anyone—or he’ll be paying for the non-refundable flight out of his own pocket (as if the breakup wasn’t enough).allie is rejected by the boy she’s in love with, again. she’s not looking forward to christmas at all, especially with cassandra spending so much time with her new boyfriend at yale, leaving allie alone to mooch around the house and despair over this breakup-that-wasn’t a-breakup.when kelly and will show up to a holiday party hand in hand, harry and allie are both seething with anger (and jealousy).together, they devise a plan that fixes both their problems: allie won’t be lonely on christmas, and harry has someone to bring on holiday.enter the fake-dating hallie holiday AU you never knew you needed.
Relationships: Harry Bingham/Allie Pressman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 127





	when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home (baby, baby, merry christmas)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [still_i_fall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_i_fall/gifts).



> this was written for my ride-or-die hallie hoe PIPER girl i have loved becoming internet friends w you. thank u for letting me beta your fics (i get so happy when i get to read a sneak peek hnnnggg) and thank you for beta'ing mine. i so appreciate you and all the work you put into writing ABSOLUTELY quality fics for this fandom. it was a pleasure to write something for you for secret santa and i hope you love it !!
> 
> the title is from what is now my favourite christmas song of all time, 'christmas tree farm' by taylor swift -- bc she OWNS hallie okayyy
> 
> and to everyone else reading this: it's almost midnight on christmas day for me and i spent like 3 hours tonight finishing this so i'm super tired and i'm sorry if there's grammar mistakes or whatever but i really wanted to post this before christmas was over for me, so if there's any mistakes i will fix tomorrowwww. love ya'll and MERRY CHRISTMAS xoxo

There are few things worse than attending a party right after you’ve been dumped. 

Even worse if it’s a  _ Christmas _ party, because everyone knows that snow and pretty lights make everything seem more romantic than it really is. 

And even more terrible if the person who dumped you shows up to the party (that  _ you _ planned, at  _ your _ house) with another girl on their arm and doesn’t spare you a glance the entire evening.

This is Allie’s reality right now, and she’s hating every second of it. 

‘Dumped’ probably isn’t the right word for what Allie has just been through with Will. ‘Profession of love goes unrequited for the third time’ is more like it. She’d “read the signs wrong” again, according to Will, and tried to kiss him at a party a few weeks ago. He looked at her like he was disappointed in her, and also like she was a little bit insane. Maybe she was.  _ Is. _ She sure feels crazy, watching him lean in close while talking to Kelly, smiling like she’s the most interesting person in the world.

It fucking  _ hurts _ . And it’s the reason she’s drinking so much tonight.

She’s maybe three glasses deep into the mulled wine when she spots Will looking up above his head to find a bunch of motherfucking  _ mistletoe _ . He points to it with a smirk, then Kelly laughs and reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Allie drains her fourth glass with ease after that.

“It’s fucking disgusting, isn’t it?”

Allie spins around and almost whacks into Harry who must have snuck up behind her. Her head swims as he comes into focus. “What?” Her tongue’s starting to feel fuzzy. All she can see in her mind is them kissing under that stupid plant. Why is mistletoe even a thing, anyway?

He nods in Will and Kelly’s direction. “Those two. I know you were watching.”

“I wasn’t—“ she stutters, but he just raises his eyebrows in a way that makes her realise there’s fighting him would be futile. “Why do you care if I was?”

He shrugs. “I don’t.”

“Okay,” she replies, not believing him. “And why were  _ you _ watching them, then? Into voyeurism, or something?” She tries to make it sound like a joke, but her words are slurring more and more after that fourth glass and so it comes off pretty deadpan.

Harry finishes off the rest of his drink in just a few seconds, locking his eyes with her the whole time (which she has to admit is maybe kinda hot). Then, like a dumbass, she remembers that Harry and Kelly broke up a few weeks ago, and everything makes sense. 

Apparently he got a little handsy with a sophomore at a house party and Kelly saw, and they had this huge blow-up and broke up right there in the driveway. Allie wasn’t there, but she heard from Becca that it was brutal, and that some people swear they even heard Harry crying in the bathroom later. He’d deny that to the moon and back, though. Harry Bingham is not the kind of guy who enjoys being vulnerable.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” she mumbles, turning to stand next to him at the kitchen counter and leaning her back against it. “I forgot you guys…you know…”

He lifts up a hand to stop her from pitying him any more. “It doesn’t matter.” Then his eyes flick up and over to where the traitorous two are standing. Close together. Locking lips. Again. She can feel him tense beside her.

“They don’t know what they’re missing,” she says in an awkward but sincere attempt to comfort him. 

“You’re right on that one,” Harry replies. Allie almost smiles at that. She reaches behind him to the bottle of red he left on the counter and pours herself a fifth glass. She appreciates that Harry doesn’t try to stop her. Instead, he does quite the opposite, and holds out his own empty glass to be refilled. 

“You’re not driving home, are you?” she asks. 

He shakes his head. “No. Jason’s taking me home later. You?”

She sputters out a drunken laugh. “This is  _ my _ fucking house, you idiot.”

For the first time since they started talking, Harry cracks into a smile, then a giggle, then full-blown laugh, and the two of them are standing there, halfway to being completely hammered, giggling at each other like kids. 

“You know what the worst part is about all of it?” he asks once they’ve calmed down and Allie is now sitting on top of the counter, Harry standing by her side. “My mom bought her a plane ticket to come with us visiting my family in Minneapolis for Christmas. Non-fucking-refundable.” Allie’s not quite following Harry’s monologue but even in her inebriated state she somehow understands that it’s probably a good idea for him to verbally process this stuff, and so lets him talk without interruption. “Who buys a non-refundable plane ticket?” he continues. “My mom, apparently. Anyway, she like, loves Kelly or whatever and thinks the breakup was  _ my _ fault and is super pissed at me about it. So she says either I find someone else to come on the trip with me, like Jason or Clark or whoever, or I have to pay for the ticket.” He turns to Allie with wide, drunk eyes that have trouble focusing on her face. “Can you believe that?”

She shakes her head, then immediately regrets doing so as it makes her dizzy. “No. That’s crazy.”

“Thank you!” he exclaims, throwing a hand up in the air. “That’s what I said! But she’s angry at me and keeps telling me I’ve ruined Christmas for her, so I don’t know what to do.” He takes a long sip of wine then sighs. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re probably the one person on earth who cares the least.”

“Eh, Cassandra would care even less than me,” she says with a cheeky smile, which he mirrors. “But hey, at least I kinda know how you feel. You know, with the whole Kelly and Will thing.” She purses her lips. “Shit. Even just saying their names makes me want to throw up.”

He laughs, and she decides that she likes the sound. Harry looks good when he laughs. His face suits a smile: those full lips drawn up at the corners, white teeth braces-straight, nose scrunched up in the cutest way, dancing dark eyes. It’s a pity he’s usually too uptight to wear one. 

And that’s when an idea—either the stupidest she’s ever had or the best—enters her mind with a start. An idea that could fix everything.

(Or make everything considerably worse. Time and sobriety will tell.)

“I’ll take the plane ticket,” Allie blurts out before she can stop herself. If she wasn’t so wasted, she’d be embarrassed, but the copious amount of alcohol in her system acts as a good security blanket.

Harry looks at her with a quizzical expression, but like he’s not entirely hating the wild proposition. “Won’t your family want you around for Christmas?”

“Cassandra’s in New Haven with her new boyfriend. He goes to  _ Yale _ ,” she says, not even attempting to cover up the biting sarcasm. “And my parents don’t give a fuck if I’m here or not on any regular day, so I doubt Christmas would be an issue. They’d probably even be relieved they don’t have to deal with me over the holidays.” She takes a swig of her drink and Harry looks at her like he wants to say something soothing and way too sweet like  _ I’m sure they’d want you around _ or  _ they love you deep down _ . She continues speaking before he can open his mouth and say something awkward. “C’mon! It would totally work. You get your mom off your back, I get away for the holidays—I’ve never been to Minnesota by the way—and it would totally fuck with  _ them _ ,” she says, guesturing to Will and Kelly who are now cuddling on the sofa. 

“You think?” Harry asks, resting his elbow on the kitchen counter and following Allie’s hand to where the others sit. “Would it really make them jealous?”

“I know Will too well,” she says with a smirk. “He’d freak out about me hanging out with  _ anyone _ , especially if it was you.”

Harry turns to her and fakes a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, c’mon. You know you’re not exactly the kind of guy who would be good for me.”

“And what’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” he echoes, now actually looking a little offended. 

Allie backtracks with a laugh. “I just mean that Will would be extra jealous if it was  _ you _ over some other random guy! No offense, but he’s not your biggest fan.”

Harry gives her a long thoughtful look, like he’s trying to push past the cloudy haze of red wine (that Allie also feels very strongly) into a place of genuine logic and consideration. “Okay,” he says finally. “I may be drunk but I feel like this might really fucking work.” To that, Allie gives him a sloppy high five, and they both dissolve into another fit of laughter.

And so the conversation continues into one filled with strategy talks, messy iPhone notes (typing on a small screen is hard when you’re nowhere near sober), and voice levels growing louder and louder the more alcohol is consumed. After a solid forty minutes of discussion and two extra glasses of wine for the both of them, a plan is finalised.

It goes like this: 1. Allie will find some way to break it to her parents that she’s not going to be home for Christmas. 2. Harry will tell his mom he’s bringing someone along with them to Minnesota. 3. Instagram stories of the two of them will be posted as much as possible to make sure both Kelly and Will see what the two of them are up to. 4. No one, not even Cassandra or Sara, must know that it’s all fake.

Allie reads over Harry’s shoulder as he types a text to his mom.  _ Hey mom,  _ it reads.  _ I’m bringing someone with us to Christmas. Her name is Allie. _

(Although because they’re both drunk the text message reads more like this:  _ hey mom you can stop being pissed at me becaus im bringing another girl w us to christhmns its alli pressman remember her ?) _

“No take backs when we sober up though, partner!” Harry says after the message is sent, jokingly wagging a finger in front of her face.

Allie grins and shakes her head, leaning over to prop her dizzy self up against Harry’s arm. “No take backs. I promise!” She pulls out her phone and opens Instagram. “Okay, now we gotta get a photo!”

Finding a good pose and then a suitable photo to post takes longer than usual as Allie’s hand keeps slipping on her phone case and most of the pictures turn out blurry. They finally take one that will work--Harry rests the side of his face against hers and just as Allie goes to take the photo, he quickly presses a kiss to her cheek, causing her to laugh in surprise. 

They look like a real couple. 

“Now this is what I’m  _ talking _ about!” Allie says after getting a reply to her story from Will just a minute after she posts it online. _ What the fuck?!?! _ he texts. She just looks up from her phone and over to where Will is sitting with his arm around Kelly, glaring at her, and waves with a cheeky smile. “Will’s already getting jealous!” she whispers to Harry.

Harry frowns. “Any message from Kelly?”

“Not yet.”

“Hmm.”

She jumps off the table and turns to grab the lapels of Harry’s denim jacket, pulling him down to her level. In the most serious voice she can muster, she says, “Fuck Kelly. This will work. Promise.”

They must look a picture, trying to hard to be serious with one another when they’re most definitely not sober. “Okay,” replies Harry. “Okay, fine.” Like he’s not even thinking about it, he pushes forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. Before Allie can say anything in return, he’s left the kitchen in search of another drink, and she’s stuck standing there, head spinning, forehead burning with the ghost of his lips.

* * *

Her head is pounding.

No, that’s too soft a word for it. It feels more like someone’s jackhammering the side of her skull while at the same time kicking her in the guts.

_ Hangovers are a bitch _ , she thinks, groaning as she reaches over to her bedside to check her phone. Blinking at her on a too-bright screen are eight unopened text messages from Cassandra.  _ Shit. _

23:32 /  **cass:** why am i seeing you and harry BINGHAM kissing on my instagram?

23:32 /  **cass:** why was that happening

23:33 /  **cass:** why were you even hanging out with him?

23:33 /  **cass:** are you guys together??

23:34 /  **cass:** you KNOW how i feel about him al

23:34 /  **cass:** he’s an asshole

23:57 /  **cass:** are you ignoring me on purpose??

00:03 /  **cass:** i swear to god allie you better have a good explanation for all this

Filled with frustration at her sister having the balls to tell her what to do when she’s not even  _ here _ (when she’s not even going to be here for Christmas, when it’s not her life, where Cassandra’s allowed to have a boyfriend and Allie’s not), Allie angrily texts back:

8:45 /  **allie:** yeah he asked me out yesterday

8:45 /  **allie:** i’m going to minnesota with his family for christmas

8:45 /  **allie:** not that you’d care. you’re not even going to be here

She closes the conversation and opens up a new one with Harry. The only archived messages there are from two years ago when they were in the same swim team and he’d left his swimsuit bottoms in the change rooms after a meet and she’d texted him to let him know.

8:47 /  **allie:** so i don’t know if you remember last night but 

8:47 /  **allie:** i told my sister we were dating and that i was coming with you to minneapolis

8:48 /  **allie:** no take backs, right??

Harry texts her back right away.

8:49 /  **harry:** fuck. yeah i told my mom too. i guess this is happening huh?

8:50 /  **harry:** we’ll pick you up to go to the airport tomorrow morning at 9am. 

With a sigh, a terrible headache, and a racing mind that wonders  _ what the fuck am I doing? _ , Allie sets her phone down and rests her head back on her pillow, trying to will herself to go back to sleep.

* * *

Meeting Harry’s mom and sister is super fucking awkward--at least from Allie’s point of view, because she  _ knows _ she’s lying to them about why she’s here and who she is to Harry. 

His mom is nice but his eight-year-old sister Sara seems confused that Allie is with them and not Kelly. She keeps looking over her shoulder at Allie during the car ride to the airport with a kind of half-death-glare that Allie finds uncomfortable. She guesses she can’t really blame the kid, though. Allie’s wondering why she’s here herself, too.

Cassandra calls Allie while they’re waiting in line to check in.

“Hello?” Allie answers.

“I thought you were joking about going to Minneapolis, Al, but Mom just told me that you’ve already left for the airport. Are you fucking kidding me?” Oh, so this is going to be a  _ fight _ conversation. Allie steps out of earshot from Harry’s family.

“Nice to hear your voice, Cassandra, really,” she hisses down the receiver.

“Don’t be sarcastic with me, Allie. I’m being serious. Why the fuck are you going on holiday with  _ Harry Bingham? _ ”

She swallows hard. Now comes the lie. “Because I like him, and he likes me, and he wanted me to meet his family. It’s not like we’re having some big happy family Christmas. Mom and Dad are going to visit Aunt Gail in Florida now that they don’t have me around. You’re in New Haven. It’s fine.”

“But why Harry Bingham?”

Allie sighs. “Stop saying his full name like that. It’s weird.”

Cassandra sounds exasperated. “Are you trying to get back at me for something? Are you mad I’m not home for the holidays?”

“Not everything is about  _ you,  _ Cass, okay?” Even though this totally  _ is  _ about her sister. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Al. Didn’t he only break up with Kelly a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah? So what?”

“And what about Will?”

“What about him?”

“Allie--”

“Look, Cassandra, I appreciate your concern, but I’m really fine. Go have fun with your boyfriend. I’ll text you when I land.”

“But--”

Allie ends the call and slips her phone back into her pocket, trying to forget the conversation ever happened and brushing it off when Harry briefly questions her about it.

It’s not that Allie hates her sister. She doesn’t. Loves and admires her, really. It’s that she’s sick of living in her shadow, under her thumb, constantly being measured up next to the perfect class president, straight-A student, fearless leader that Cassandra is. It would be nice to have her own life for once in a while, and for some of the attention to be on Allie rather than her sister.

It’s selfish. She doesn’t care. Harry grins at her as he helps her check in her bag, and she likes the look of it.

Later, when they’re on the plane, Harry leans over to whisper in her ear, quiet enough that his sister sitting next to him won’t hear.

“Give me your hand.”   


“What?” she frowns.

None-too-gently, he reaches over to grab her hand and to clasp it tight. “Just hold my fucking hand.”

“Why?”

“My sister can sniff out a lie a mile away. If we want this to work, we have to sell it. I don’t want my mom finding out I’ve been lying to her.”

“Fine.” She relaxes her tense fingers settles back in her seat, shutting her eyes and getting comfy. “Do we have to hold hands the whole time?”

“Just until she falls asleep.”

Sara nods off only ten minutes after liftoff. Harry’s palm stays slick with sweat clasped around hers until they land.

* * *

Minnesota is  _ freezing _ . Harry wasn’t joking about that when he told her to pack the biggest coat she owned. It’s snowing when they leave the airport, and with Christmas lights up all around town, it really does look magical.

Harry’s Aunt Fleur lives in massive villa in Minneapolis. She’s apparently single and rich and a total badass, and Harry’s favourite aunt. Allie likes the sound of her already.

There’s a bit of a mix-up when they meet, though. Fleur was obviously expecting someone decidedly  _ not _ Allie. Someone whose name starts with K, perhaps.

“Hi, Aunt Fleur,” Harry says, then gestures to Allie. “This is my girlfriend.”

“Hi Kelly, nice to finally meet you!” Fleur says, drawing Allie in for a warm hug. 

“Oh, sorry, I’m not--my name’s Allie,” she stutters, blushing in embarrassment.

Fleur pulls away and lifts her hand to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How awful of me. Forgive me!”

Allie chuckles to lighten the mood. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it!”

Harry looks at her strange when they walk inside, like maybe he’s wishing Kelly really was here with him instead of her. Allie wouldn’t blame him if he was. That’s what this whole week is about, right? Make the other two so jealous they’ll come running back?

She takes a selfie with him outside in the snow and posts it to Instagram, tags him and their location, puts a Christmas tree and a snowman emoji as the caption, and waits for either Kelly or Will to send her a message.

Once inside the house, with coats and boots off and skin growing warmer by the second, Allie gets to meet the rest of the Bingham clan who have gathered here for Christmas. They’re all related to Harry’s late father--Fleur being his youngest sister--and Allie can definitely see the family resemblance as many of them have the same dark eyes and thick hair Harry has. There’s his Uncle Ken and Aunt Stacey and their daughter Mia, his grandfather and grandmother, and another aunt named Genevieve. They all welcome her with hugs and compliments on her hair, her outfit, her skin--and she thinks she’s probably like it here this Christmas.

After the introductions, they run into a slight problem when being shown where they’re going to be sleeping this week.

“We’ve got the guest room for you two,” Aunt Fleur announces once they’ve all had a cup of coffee to warm up. “Nice and cosy.”

Allie gulps. “Just one bed?”

Fleur tilts her head to the side and looks confused. Of course: why  _ wouldn’t _ Harry and Allie want to share a bed? “Uh, yeah. If that’s not okay, I can put one of you on the couch?”

Harry interjects before Allie can dig herself a bigger hole. “Oh, no! That’s fine. We’re fine. This is just perfect. Thanks, Aunt Fleur.” He shuffles her off to the spare room without another word, leaving his aunt to stare peculiarly after them as they go.

“Okay, I draw the line at sleeping together, Harry,” Allie sighs when they’re later unpacking their bags. “That’s not what I signed up for.”

He raises his eyebrows and takes one of the pillows off the bed to rest on the carpet. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly keen on it either. I’ll take the floor.”

“Thanks,” she replies, relieved that they won’t have to tack on the mission of sleeping in the same bed. Keeping up appearances of being together is hard enough in the daytime. She won’t be able having to pretend at night, too. She tosses him a few blankets from the bed. “Here, have a couple of these.”

“So kind,” he says with a sarcastic smirk. She sticks her tongue out at him and he laughs, and she’s reminded of how much she likes the sound of it.

Later, when they’re both tucked into their respective beds (Allie in a plush King-size, Harry covered in blankets on the floor), and the lights are off, Allie speaks up. “Your family seem cool.”

Harry clears his throat before answering. “I think they like you. Mia keeps looking at you like you’re a princess. Elsa from Frozen or whatever,” he chuckles. “She’s obsessed. Must be the hair.”

She grins, even though she knows Harry can’t see her. “Must be.”

“Night, Allie.”

“Night, Harry.”

There are still no Instagram messages from either Kelly or Will by the end of the night. Allie pretends not to be disappointed, and doesn’t mention anything to Harry.

* * *

The first day she’s there, they go sledding. Apparently, it’s a Bingham family Christmas tradition. Allie hears from Genevieve that Harry’s dad was a total legend with a sled, that he beat everyone in every race, and even built homemade sleds for all the kids one Christmas. Everyone talks about his dad with such love in their voice and in their eyes, and Allie can see that they all feel his loss deeply. She doesn’t know how Harry does it--walking around, going about his day all normal, with that awful grief inside. He never really seems to mention it, but whenever someone says Tony’s name, Harry’s eyes gloss over a little, like he’s remembering something.

Even though she knows they’re not really dating, Allie still wishes she’d had the opportunity to meet Tony properly. 

It’s been snowing so much lately that the sled hill is totally perfect for sledding. It also means there’s tons of kids and families at the hill, which makes going down it without hitting another sled almost impossible. There are a few minor wipeouts between the lot of them, but nothing serious. Not until Allie decides to challenge Harry to a race.

Allie hasn’t done a lot of sledding before, but the sled seems easy enough to manoeuvre, so she grits her teeth and takes the plunge down the hill next to Harry. She picks up speed, going faster and faster, until every little bump in the snow feels like a mountain, until she has to swerve for a kid who just appeared out of  _ nowhere _ in front of her, until she skids on a patch of ice and slams straight into the trunk of a tree.

She faintly hears a gasp from Harry and a few shouted swear words while the ringing in her ears fades away. “Oh, my God, are you okay? Allie? Shit!” he mumbles, rushing over to her, stumbling in the snow. The sled has skidded out from under her, and so she lays on her back on the ice having scraped her leg against the tree, the wind almost knocked out of her.

He leans over her with the most hilariously concerned look on his face. She peers up at him through messed-up hair. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Just a little scraped up,” she says between giggles. There’s a gash in her leggings and some blood on her shin, but other than that, she’s okay.

“I thought you were going to break your neck or something!” he sighs, sitting back on his heels and brushing snow out of his hair. There’s something about the light around them that makes his olive skin glow. He looks beautiful, especially when he’s vulnerable like this. It makes a lump appear in her throat. She swallows hard and reverts to humour to diffuse the tension of the situation.

“Aw, you were worried about me? Harry, you know we’re only fake-dating right?” she mocks, sitting up and reaching over to squish his cheeks in her palms. 

He frowns and pushes her hands away. “Shut up,” he says, but it doesn’t come out mean at all. More like he’s embarrassed. He stands up and picks up the sled. “Come on, we’re going again.”

And they do, and there’s no more wipeouts, but plenty of laughs.

* * *

Because Harry is the most unorganised person in the world, the two of them have to brave the mall on Christmas week to find a gift for his mom.

They stroll down the mall, Starbucks coffees in hand, dodging the waves of people pushing past them to get the best presents at the best prices, all leave-it-to-the-last-minute people like Harry.

“So what do you think your mom will like?” Allie asks as they pass a mom trying to calm down her screaming kid outside a Toys’R’Us. “Anything in particular?”

“This is gonna sound weird but, uh, she collects teacups? Like little cute antique ones.” He shrugs. “I don’t know why, but it’s her thing. I think she’d probably like something to add to her collection.”

“That’s sweet,” Allie smiles, feeling herself get a little soft at the idea of Harry’s mom with a teacup collection. :”Okay, well, I know the perfect store.”

She directs him to a Teavana store and helps him pick out a simple white china cup with a beautiful watercolour print and a gold rim.

“You think she’d like this?” she asks, holding up the cup for him to inspect.

He looks at her curiously over the rim of the cup, light in his eyes, like he’s surprised by her. He takes a moment to respond. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s really--that’s nice. Thank you.” 

On their way out of the mall, they walk past the mom with the kid throwing a tantrum. She notices that Harry’s eyes linger on the mom trying her best to soothe her kid, rubbing his back as he cries on the floor. 

“You know, my mom and I don’t have the best relationship,” he says all of a sudden.

She’s taken off guard. She wasn’t expecting that. “Oh.”

“Do you know I found out that my mom was having an affair with Kelly’s dad?” He says this with a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s not walking through the mall, like he’s not here. Somewhere else. “Not even six months after my dad died.”

She sucks in a hard breath. “That’s kinda fucked up. Is that why you guys broke up?”

They come to the double doors of the mall exit and step through. There’s a cold blast of air from outside that whips them in the face, causing them to pull their scarves tighter around their necks. “Yes and no,” he continues as they walk through the carpark. “There were lots of other reasons, but the affair thing certainly didn’t help. My mom doesn’t know that I know, but I’ve been kind of a dick to her lately because of it and I feel bad. It’s why I wanted to get her something nice.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Harry,” she says, smiling over at him even though he’s not looking. She takes in the sight of his side profile--sharp jaw, red-tipped nose, pink cheeks, hair tucked under a beanie--and thinks briefly that he’s handsome when he’s being vulnerable. He’s good-looking all the time, really, but additionally so right now.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, flicking her a grin that’s a little sad. “Let’s not get all sentimental about it, Pressman.”

“Pressman, huh? Is that a new nickname? Do I get to call you Bingham?” she teases, bumping her shoulder against his.

“If you want,” he smirks, shooting her a wink that she rolls her eyes out. 

The back of her hand brushes his accidentally--they’re walking so close, swinging their arms as they go, so it was bound to happen. But then he catches her fingers and intertwines them with his like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 

No one’s watching. They hold hands anyway.

* * *

Harry’s aunts, Fleur, Genevieve and Stacey, organise a pie-making night one evening leading up to Christmas. Apparently, like the sledding, this is another family tradition, and one Allie is more than happy to join in with.

“Our rule is that if you wanna eat it on Christmas, you gotta help bake it,” Stacey instructs her as they begin to roll out the ready-made pie dough ( _ You didn’t think we were gonna do it from scratch, did you? We live in a modern world that has store-bought pie crusts--why wouldn’t we make use of that?! _ Fleur had joked earlier). “Are you up for the challenge?”

“Always,” Allie winks. “Which pie can I work on?”

“Sara will need help to braid the top of the blackberry pie,” Harry’s mom, Caryn, replies, gesturing to her youngest child who has made herself some space on the kitchen table to work and is currently sprinkling some flour out on the wood.

“Hey!” Sara exclaims, frowning at her mom. “I’ve gotten so much better at it! But yeah,” she shrugs, looking now at Allie. “You can help me, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Allie smiles, moving over to where Harry’s sister sits. She pretends not to notice Harry watching her from his spot on the couch.

When the pies are in the oven and the dishes are done, Sara corners Allie in the pantry, shutting the door behind her. Before Allie can get a chance to ask what the hell is going on, Sara crosses her arms and opens her mouth, saying in the most accusatory voice: “So were you guys ever gonna tell me or mom that you’re not actually dating?”

“Um, what?” Allie stutters, feeling suddenly claustrophobic.  _ Are we that obvious? Fuck! _

“I know you’re lying.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sara,” Allie replies in the most unconvincing voice probably ever spoken, tucking a curl nervously behind her ear. 

“I may be eight but I’m not stupid,” Sara says, rolling her eyes and drawing herself up to her full five-foot-two height which, although very short, is not that much shorter than Allie, and still intimidating.

Allie clears her throat and crosses her own arms over her chest, mirroring the younger girl. “I don’t doubt that. I just don’t get why you think we’re not a real couple.”

“ _ Okay _ , if you’re really his girlfriend go up and kiss him right now.”

“Right now?” she asks. Sara nods. “On the lips?”

“I don’t care,” Sara sighs, sounding as exasperated as her real sister usually is with her. “He’s your boyfriend, right? You can kiss him however you want.”

Prepared to defend this fake relationship (for whatever fucking reason, because the lack of jealous messages from either Will or Kelly after Harry posted a photo of him and Allie baking pies this evening goes to show that this whole thing is not fucking working the way they wanted it to), Allie squares her jaw and accepts the mission. “Easy.”

Then she’s opening the pantry door, striding with faux confidence over to the living room where Harry sits with his uncle and grandpa watching football, and bends down to kiss him right on the lips. It’s not exactly nice--their lips are both pretty dry, and he wasn’t expecting it so there’s no movement or anything--but the way Harry looks at her when she pulls away is...something.

And now Allie’s wondering if going through with Sara’s dare was a completely fucking stupid idea, because now she feels weird and Harry’s still staring at her with this  _ look _ in his eyes. She sits down on the couch next to him, kicks her feet up, and pretends to be interested in the game.

And that’s when she posts Sara grinning at them from the kitchen, this sly smile on her face, like she knew what she was doing all along.

* * *

Cassandra calls the day before Christmas Eve after Allie’s spent the morning helping Harry’s mom wrap presents for Sara.

“How’s it going with Harry?” 

“Great, yeah. Really well,” Allie replies as she paces back and forth in the spare room, phone pressed to her ear. “His family is so lovely. And it’s been snowing so much here, it’s beautiful. How’s Yale?”

“Good, yeah. Look, I just wanted to check in and say Merry Christmas Eve Eve and to see--to make sure Harry is being good to you. That he’s not being a dick.”

“He’s--no, he’s been amazing. Really wonderful.” Thankfully, she’s not lying about that. He really has been, and she had  _ very _ low expectations for his behaviour, based on what she’d seen of him at school and how he hated her sister.

“I miss you. Feels weird not being together during the holidays.”

_ And whose fault is that? _ is the first thought through Allie’s mind, but it’s cancelled out by the pain she feels in her gut that says  _ fuck, I miss her too. _ “I miss you, too,” she says, verbalising that feeling, but follows it up with, “I have to go now, though, sorry. We’re about to start watching A Christmas Story.”

“Oh, that’s a classic!” 

“Do you remember when Dad used to make us watch it like 3 times in a row on Christmas day?” Allie giggles.

“I don’t know why he had such an obsession with that awful fucking movie,” Cassandra laughs. “Oh, Allie,” she says after a long pause. “I love you, sis.”

Allie smiles. “Love you, too,” she says, and she does mean it. “I’ll call you on Christmas.”

“Please do. Take care.”

“Bye.”

When she gets back downstairs, Harry pulls her aside and asks who she was talking to. The frantic and hopeful look in his eyes tells her he’s thinking it might be Will, or maybe even Kelly, calling to ask why Harry was kissing Allie’s cheek in an Instagram story posted today of them drinking hot cocoa around the fireplace.

“Who was that?”

“Cassandra.” That hope fades quickly from his eyes, and his shoulders droop slightly. It’s a little pathetic looking, and she feels bad for thinking so.

“What did she say?”

She reaches out to gently place a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him without words.  _ I get how you feel. I’m disappointed, too.  _ “She doesn’t suspect a thing.”

* * *

In yet  _ another _ Bingham family Christmas tradition, each relative gets to open up one present on Christmas Eve. They sit around the giant tree, boozy hot chocolates in hand for the adults, listening to the soft sound of Frank Sinatra singing Christmas carols on the radio as it snows heavily outside. They’re getting a white Christmas, just like the song playing right now, for sure.

“You wanna go first?” Caryn asks Allie, sending her a warm smile. Allie nods appreciatively and searches through the pile of presents for one with her name on it. She opes it to find it’s a brand new woolen scarf, hand-knit in soft pink yarn.

“Oh, this is so gorgeous,” she says, wrapping it around her neck. “Thank you, Mrs Bingham.”

“Don’t mention it Allie,” Harry’s mom smiles. Allie feels right at home.

Sara’s next. She gets a notebook and pen with a unicorn on the cover, which she squeals with delight at. Mia gets a Frozen doll, Harry a pair of socks (that he’s not even mad about, because they’re super warm and fuzzy and apparently he gets cold feet), and the parents matching Christmas sweaters. Then they all play a card game called ‘Dickhead’, which Sara and Mia love because they’re allowed to say a curse word while playing it. The game gets crazier as Harry, Allie and the other adults drink more and more of the ‘special’ hot cocoa, and soon, Harry and Allie are moving on from spiked hot chocolate to sneaking straight shots of Kahlua from the kitchen cupboard and getting tipsy very, very quickly. 

She’s maybe had three shots when she decides she wants to go outside and play in the snow. In below freezing temperatures. While she’s drunk.

It would be a dumb idea for any sober person, but thankfully, Harry’s too drunk to criticise her, and the other parents are too involved in another round of cards to warn them against getting frostbite or whatever.

“Come out to play with me, Harry!” Allie calls like a little kid, bundling herself up in her brand new scarf and puffy coat and opening the door to outside.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming!” he replies, yanking a beanie on over his hair and grinning like an idiot as he follows her out the door, almost tripping over the front step.

She trudges forward then collapses on her back into a snow drift, staring up at the night sky with all its stars and making a snow angel. 

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” she asks, feeling snow starting to melt through her jeans but not bothering to get up and do anything about it because she’s busy making this damn angel.

“Please, don’t say that,” Harry groans. “Mia will hear you and she’ll only start singing it, and I can’t hear that fucking song ever again.”

“You should no-o-o-t have told me that,” Allie giggles, then sings, “ _ Do you wanna build a snowman? Come on, let’s go and play-- _ ouch!” A snowball lands in her hair, narrowly missing her eyes. She sits up with a start, then immediately regrets it for the way it makes her head swim.

Harry laughs so hard he almost falls over, then stumbles over to where she’s trying to push herself up. 

“Fuck, I think I’m a little drunk,” she says as she finally makes it to standing.

“Me too,” he giggles, falling onto his butt in the snow. “Come here.” He reaches up to pull her down by her new scarf and she topples over, landing with her knees either side of his outstretched legs, her face too close for comfort to his own.

That’s when it feels like the air crackles between them. Like there’s lightning in the air. It sounds cliche but it’s  _ real _ . It feels electric. Maybe they’re both just drunk but it feels like  _ something. _

“Allie--” Harry goes to say, but Allie’s gloved hands are already on him (one on his cheek, one clutching the nape of his neck) and she’s pulling him forward, and he’s not stopping her, and their lips are colliding in the sweetest way. 

It lasts only a second before they come to their senses and pull away. 

“Allie--” he says again, but she shakes her head.

“Nevermind,” she whispers, then stands up on feet that are suddenly steady, and that’s that.

Except that night, he sleeps in her bed. Allie never explicitly asks him to join her, but she as much as does when she moves the pillow off the floor and onto the mattress next to hers. 

She falls asleep with his hand on her waist, his nose in her hair, his heart beating at her back.

* * *

Waking up at seven thirty on Christmas morning seems early to Allie, but once she makes her way downstairs after pulling on a dressing gown, she finds that she’s actually late. The Binghams all like to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to open presents--just another family tradition. 

“Merry Christmas, Allie!” Sara greets her with a bright smile, dressed in the cutest Christmas pyjamas that match with her little cousin.

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Allie yawns. “Oh my God, this looks amazing.” The dining table has been transformed into a breakfast paradise--all kinds of cereals, pancakes, waffles, and fruit cover the table. She has no idea when the aunts found the time to do all this, but she sure is grateful.

After breakfast, they retire to the living room to start opening presents. Allie and Harry are walking side by side through the hall when a yell from Sara right as they pass underneath the doorway to the lounge stops them in their tracks. Thinking there’s some big spider on the wall or something, Allie jumps in surprise, steadied by Harry’s hand at her back. (Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She’s astonished at how comfortable with him she’s become in just a few days.)

“Hey! Look up you guys!” Sara calls again. Allie tilts her head and sure enough, there’s a nice little green and red gift waiting for them, tacked to the doorframe.

“Wow, what do we have here?” Harry asks sarcastically.

“It’s mistletoe!” yells Mia, innocent and unaware. The two of them smile despite themselves.

“It  _ is _ mistletoe, Mia,” Allie says. “But what does it mean?”

“It means you have to kiss the person who is also under it,” Mia replies, rolling her eyes like she can’t believe the two teenagers are really that stupid.

“Huh, really?” Harry chuckles. “I’ve never heard of that before.” He grins at Allie and tips his head. “I guess I should kiss you then, huh?” he mumbles.

The tips of her ears go pink. “My breath stinks. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispers, and then he’s bending down and pressing his lips against hers, and the whole family is watching and she probably tastes gross but she feels like she’s floating, she feels joyful and warm and filled with light, and Harry smells so good and feels so perfect.

She doesn’t think she’s ever been this happy.

* * *

It was all perfect. It was beautiful, and wonderful, and magical.

Until it wasn’t.

Until she got home, and realised Will hadn’t texted her one (not even to wish her a Merry Christmas), and that she actually  _ liked _ kissing Harry, and that she loved being there for Christmas with him.

Until she remembered that none of it was real.

And she felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

Which is why she’s been ignoring Harry’s texts for the past few days.

29/12 /  7:34 /  **harry:** thank you again for coming with me. my mom really loved you. 

30/12 /  4:12 /  **harry:** hey pressman. i don’t know what your plans are leading up to new years but it would be cool to go get coffee at some point maybe. idk. anyway just let me know if and when you’re free i guess

31/12 /  11:50 /  **harry:** i feel kinda stupid triple texting you again but it’s new years eve and i wanted to wish you a happy new year

31/12 /  5:01 /  **harry:** will i see you at luke’s party tonight?

She can’t believe she’s got a fucking  _ crush _ on him.  _ Harry! Of all people! _ she thinks with a sigh as she reads his most recent message.

This was supposed to be something fun. Something that would be mutually beneficial for them. That would bring Will back--and if not as her boyfriend, but as her best friend, at least. Now she’s too scared to face Harry after realising her developing feelings for him, she’s probably lost Will for good, and she has no proper plans for New Years.

Well, there’s a party planned at Luke Holbrook’s house that she’s been invited to, but evidently Harry will be there, and she’s not sure if she can be around him yet. She’s got to get over this dumb little crush first, otherwise she’ll be in for more soul-crushing disappointment when she finds out he definitely doesn’t like her back.

There’s only one thing left to do: call Cassandra, her begrudging life advice guru, and come clean.

And so she does. “Hey, so, I gotta tell you something,” Allie says as soon as her sister picks up the phone. “Don’t freak out.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“So you know how I told you Harry and I were dating?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, we--we weren’t. Kinda. We were faking it so he wouldn’t have to pay for a plane ticket refund and his family wouldn’t think he was a loner and so Will and Kelly would get jealous. Which sounds like the dumbest reason to fucking  _ fake date _ someone now that I say it out loud but that’s what happened.” The words come out in a frenzied rush, and the only thought that’s running through Allie’s brain is  _ you’re a dumbass you’re a dumbass literally what the fuck you’re a dumbass... _

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t even sound  _ mad _ , which is the strangest thing. “Okay. And let me guess: you’ve got a real crush on him now, right?”

Allie sucks in a gasp. “What? How did you--”

“I’m your sister, Al. I’ve known you all your life. I can read you like a book. Even over the phone.”

“Fuck,” Allie curses, flopping down onto her bed and running a hand over her face. “What do I do, Cass?”

Cassandra sighs heavily. “You know Harry and I don’t get along. That’s no secret. And I still think it is super fucking weird that you guys fake dated or whatever but--if you like him, Al, you have to tell him. There’s no point keeping those feelings to yourself. He probably likes you, too.”

“I don’t know--”

“There’s a New Years Eve party tonight, right? Perfect! Tell him then.”

“How are you so chill about this? I thought you would be way more mad that I lied to you.”

“We do stupid stuff when it comes to guys. I understand. You’re still an idiot, but I get it.” Cassandra’s voice gets a little softer. “You were too good for Will, anyway.”

“Really? And I’m not too good for Harry?”

“Well, yeah, of course. No guy is good enough for you in  _ my _ opinion. But if you really like him, go ahead. I trust your judgement.”

“That...actually means a lot, Cass. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go to that party. Tell him how you feel. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

* * *

Allie arrives late to the party, wearing her new scarf and her favourite purple eyeshadow, feeling completely out of place in a room packed with people. Harry, out of every fucking person at the party, is the first person she sees.

“Hey,” he says, walking over to her, mug of mulled wine in his hand. Just like the last party they were at, when all of this shit started. 

“Hi,” she replies, voice a little squeaky with anxiety. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you back, I was--”

He shakes his head.“It’s fine. Seriously.”

“Okay.”  _ God, why is this so fucking awkward? _ “So, how are you?”

“Good, yeah, how are you?”

“Uh…” Allie stares at him with an expression she hopes isn’t too creepy, trying to remember Cassandra’s words on the phone.  _ Tell him how you feel. You’ll regret it if you don’t. _ She spares a look at her watch: only two minutes until midnight. Now or never. She swallows hard and darts her eyes away from his gaze to focus on a picture on the wall behind his head. “Look,” she says. “I think I like you. For real. I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I--you know what, yeah, it’s weird. I shouldn’t have said anything.”She tucks her hair behind her ears and turns abruptly on her heels, facing the door. “I’m gonna go.” 

She rushes out the front door into the cold and bites her lip to keep from crying because she’s so  _ stupid _ for doing that, for agreeing to fake date Harry Bingham, for falling for him in barely a week, for being young and making bad decisions. 

But then his voice is calling, “Allie!” and she hears his footsteps crunching on the icy snow that lines the driveway behind her.

She spins around, eyes already wet with frustrated tears, and finds him standing there, barely two feet away. He looks desperate--eyes wide, lips parted, hand reaching out to catch her elbow. “Hey, wait. Don’t leave. It’s almost midnight,” he pleads.

“I know. That’s why I was leaving.” She tries to pull away from him and go back to her car but he jogs in front of her and stops her before she can. 

“I like you, too,” he blurts out, and her heart almost skips a beat. “All that stuff at Christmas--I know it was technically fake, but it felt real to me. It feels real now.” And he’s smiling. God, he’s fucking  _ smiling _ . He  _ likes  _ her. “Don’t leave.”

And what else can she do, when he looks at her like that? “Okay,” she whispers. “I won’t.”

He takes a step forward, closing the gap between them. “Good.”

She can hear voices chanting from indoors. “They’re counting down.” 

“They are.” His fingers reach up to brush the side of her cheek. She’s never felt so seen, or so beautiful.

“I guess you should go find someone to kiss.”

He bends down, so close they almost touch lips, and says against her mouth, “I already have.”

Then the clock’s chiming midnight, ringing in a new year and a new decade, and he’s kissing her slowly and delightfully with a hand in her hair, and she feels alive, alive,  _ alive _ .

_ Thank God for Will and Kelly _ , she thinks with an inward laugh,  _ for making all this happen _ .

After the cheering inside stops and the snow falling over them makes it too cold to bear, he steps away from her and gestures to the still-open front door and the warmth inside.

“You coming in?” he asks, grinning at her with those dancing eyes.

_ He suits a smile _ , she thinks. “Give me one minute!” she says. 

Allie looks up at the snow falling from the sky, breathes deeply, and thinks,  _ maybe this is the year I fall in love for real. _

**Author's Note:**

> one of the best things 2019 gave the world was the society and hallie AMIRIGHT
> 
> p.s. if you spotted the parks and recreation easter egg in this i love you foreva (clue: it's a line in the first scene hehe)


End file.
